scar mumbo and a few others fall into a rift into the void and when they wake back up they're not on hermit craft anymore help they're not even in the same time anymore

What if Double Life had gone a bit differently? What if Scar found out something he originally never did? How differently would that season have gone? T/W- lots of angst, injury and death. If you're not comfortable please don't read --- This book is written for @Luna_and_Fandom as part of @Always_Indigo 's Secret Santa event! Enjoy! T/W- Blood (gore?), a few swears, main/minor character death. Book cover does not belong to me. Currently can't find original artist.

Tired of the normal humdrum of city life, Keralis sent out an open invite to go camping with him. The first person to reply-much to his surprise-was Xisuma. He hadn't expected a quick response, especially since he assumed Xisuma was drowning in work, but the message read that he and his brother, Xavier, would love to come. Not long after, Wels and his brother, Hels, replied just as quickly, saying they wanted to join as well. Great. The next group to chime in was Team ZITS-Zedaph, Impulse, Tango, and Skizz-who announced they'd be bringing a giant camper.

A long, long time ago, there were two kingdoms. One soared high above the world, resting among the soft, endless clouds. The Kingdom of the Clouds was a place of gentle hearts and kind smiles, where laughter floated as easily as the morning breeze. Far below, hidden in fire and stone, lay another kingdom. Born of magma and hellfire, its name has long since been forgotten-some say it was never truly known. This kingdom was a mirror darkly cast. Where the people of the clouds offered warmth and love, those below carried anger, bitterness, and strife. The two kingdoms clashed again and again, like lightning striking the earth. Their battles echoed through the ages, for neither trusted the other. But one day, a knight of the clouds-brave and true-chose a different path. Instead of lifting his sword, he descended from the skies, seeking words instead of war. He went to speak with the kingdom born of fire, daring to hope that peace might bloom where none believed it could.

Throughout Jimmy's entire life, he had never once sung a true canary's song. Not because he didn't have the voice for it-he did-but because he never felt the need. Or maybe, more truthfully, he'd never been given the chance. Every time he tried, someone would tell him to shut up. If he chirped even a little too loud, a heavy blanket would be thrown over his cage, plunging him into darkness, tricking him into thinking it was night. He'd sit there, silent and still, alone in that manufactured night, wondering what he did wrong. He never stayed in one place for long. From one owner to the next, passed around like an afterthought. A decoration. A novelty. Never a companion. Eventually, the canary stopped trying. He stopped chirping. He stopped dreaming of melodies. His voice, once instinctual, dulled into a forgotten thing. He was yelled at so often that, after a while, he started to believe his name was Shut Up. Shut up, they'd say. You're too loud. You're too noisy. And so, he wasn't. He was quiet. Invisible. A canary who never sang.

art is not mine

Follow the story of Skye Morris, a behind the scenes worker that no one notices, who works for a production company, or more like for the over demanding celebrities, but one of them stands out, Miles Jackson, a rising celebrity and Skye's secret crush. After many microwave meals, will Skye find love with Miles, and will someone notice her hidden talents and rise beyond the crowd? (Original Work) -REECETHEKATYCAT59

basically hermitcraft but evil

based off of my very first dnd campaign. Things might seem a bit clunky but I am doing the best off of my memory

Martyn was born blind and has always relied heavily on his hearing to navigate and understand the world around him. He walks with a cane, and his eyes are always closed-he doesn't even know what color they are, nor has he ever thought to ask. For him, the world has always been cloaked in darkness. That began to change when he discovered a small spark of magic within himself. With time and practice, he learned to use it to "paint" mental images of people and places in his mind. Through subtle differences in tone, mood, and cadence, he could distinguish colors-hearing the warmth of a sunset in a laugh, or the chill of blue in a hushed whisper. Over the years, he also honed his ability to read body language-not through sight, but through sound. The shifting of feet, the rhythm of someone's breath, the way fabric brushed against itself as someone turned-all of it became a symphony of cues that told him what others could see with their eyes. Martyn often kept to himself, sitting quietly in the corner of a room with a Braille book in his hands, lost in the raised dots beneath his fingers. Most people didn't approach him. Whether it was discomfort or uncertainty, he had grown used to being left alone. But that all changed the day a new transfer student joined the theater program. Curious and unafraid, they noticed Martyn sitting by himself and, rather than shy away, felt drawn to him. For the first time in a long while, Martyn's quiet world began to shift-not just with sound and magic, but with the unexpected rhythm of connection.